The Long Way Around
by Pokegeek151
Summary: A story of adventurous princesses, kind-hearted* pirates, and a journey that will change the lives of many. If I were to say more, there would be spoilers, and that wouldn't be fun. Includes action, adventure, and perhaps romance, as well as a diverse cast of characteers including humans, half orcs, and more. Rated T for potential violence with a hint of romance. Final title TBD.
Look! I still exist! I'm not dead! And now I have a new story. I started this over break, and I am really enjoying writing it. Please note that due to the way that I have been writing it, there are basically no formal breaks, so chapters might end a bit awkwardly. I apologize in advance.

I don't own D&D, Faerun, or any of the things associated and belonging to Wizards of the Coast. The characters are mine. That's about it.

Genevieve was standing on the dais at the back of the grand ballroom. She watched dispassionately as hundreds of nobles in brightly colored dresses and tuxedos chatted noisily and danced to the sound of the orchestra playing on a balcony near the ceiling. She put on a fake smile as an elven prince from some far away country greeted her and told her that she looked simply /ravishing/ this evening. After a few minutes of mindless chatter, he left to find some pretty young lady to give a glass of champagne and dance with for a few hours. Genevieve dropped her smile and returned to being bored.

The party was just beginning, but Genevieve was already ready to leave. The smell of alcohol and sweat was already beginning to fill the air, and the heat was growing by the minute. Her glass was empty, and the nearest waiter was dealing with someone else and hadn't noticed her yet.

She let out a deep sigh as the dwarven steward quickly went up the short steps to introduce her to some other noble that she was expected to remember but would forget in minutes.

"Princess Genevieve, allow me to introduce you to Lady Maribelle."

Genevieve looked up, expecting some overly decorated woman getting on in years and desperate to talk to the young women who would soon take her place in the social world. Instead, her gaze fell over a tall woman in a slim black tuxedo, her dark hair back and shining with water as though she had been caught in the rain. She stood straight and confident, accustomed to having authority and being surrounded by it. As Genevieve gazed at this elegant woman, she thought that her skin might be slightly blue.

"Good evening, Princess. It's a pleasure to meet you," she said, bowing at the waist. Her voice was smooth and flowed like a river, and Genevieve was intrigued.

"Good evening, Lady Maribelle. I must ask, though, if you are such a lady, why are you wearing a man's tuxedo?" Genevieve herself was wearing a long peach gown with what she believed to be an excessively wide petticoat that made the skirt hot and itchy while increasing its size so that movement was tricky.

"I believe that ease of motion is important, no matter where you are or what you're doing. Though I suppose you wouldn't agree, Princess," Maribelle replied, indicating Genevieve's wide skirt.

"My mother insisted I wear this thing. I envy your comfort."

"Thank you, Princess. I will say that you look stunning in that dress, though."

Maribelle bowed again, and for a moment, neither of them moved. Then Genevieve hesitantly said, "I enjoy speaking with you, Lady Maribelle. Would you mind accompanying me this evening?"

Maribelle smiled, lighting her eyes that were so blue they were approaching black. "I would love to."

She held out her arm and Genevieve looped hers through it. As they walked out into the wide space below the dais, Genevieve said quietly, "You're such a gentleman for a lady."

Maribelle smiled. "You are a princess. I must show the proper courtesy."

They reached the center of the room, and in one smooth motion, Maribelle scooped up Genevieve's arms and began to slowly step around the room in time to the music. With each turn, Genevieve's skirt folded around Maribelle's legs like a cocoon.

"You're an excellent dancer," Genevieve said.

"You think so? I don't get much chance to practice."

"I would have never guessed. You know, the name Maribelle doesn't seem to fit you.

"Is that so?"

Step, two, three.

"Indeed. It's a very feminine name. And you are not much of a lady."

"It's a good thing that's not my name."

"What's your real name, then?"

"Bronwyn."

"Like the infamous pirate?"

"Unfortunately, yes, Princess. That's why I use a false name-so that I don't get confused with that brigand."

Step, two, three.

"You can call me Genevieve."

"That wouldn't be proper."

"I don't care."

"Very well then, Genevieve."

She liked the way her name sounded coming from Maribelle-Bronwyn. She would have been content to dance in silence for a few minutes, but Bronwyn surprised her with a question.

"Is what they say true?"

"What do they say?"

Step, two, three.

"I once heard it phrased that you play for my team."

Bronwyn gave her a twirl.

"Oh. Where did you hear that?"

"Irrelevant. Is it true?"

After a moment's hesitation, she whispered, "Yes."

Genevieve hadn't realized that they were no longer dancing, just standing in the center of the room directly under the huge crystal chandelier while other couples spun around them.

"I meant what I said earlier when I told you that you were beautiful."

Without saying anything else, Bronwyn leaned forward so that her face was close to Genevieve's. She gently lifted Genevieve's chin with one hand so that their faces nearly touched.

The sound of shattering glass stopped them, and people began screaming and running towards the door. Abruptly, Bronwyn stood up to her full height and cast her gaze around the room, a look of confusion on her face. Genevieve stared slightly downward, her fingers over lips, thinking about what almost happened and missing Bronwyn's closeness.

Bronwyn's soft squeeze on her arm brought her back into reality, and she searched around the room to see what was going on. The windows near the ceiling had all been shattered at once and at least a dozen armed men came in on ropes, drawing their swords as they landed.

Genevieve gasped. "Pirates," she said.


End file.
